As the sun sets over the Sierra mountain range, illuminating the peaks as a vibrant purple, the stars twinkle among the floating balloons. I can’t even hear myself scream to Umphrey McGee's cover of “Don’t You Forget About Me.”
That’s how loud the guitar is screeching. The pulsing drum beat throbs in my chest as my feet bounce against the grass. It feels like destiny while I belt out the lyrics; that’s the moment I knew this festival is my favorite place on the planet.
I came upon the High Sierra music festival several months before my eighth-grade graduation. This festival takes place every Fourth of July weekend in Quincy, a quaint town tucked away in the Sierra Mountains. Throughout the entire weekend, a variety of music, including folk, jazz, funk, soul and rock, plays from sunrise to long after sundown.
My best friend, junior Gina Hinojosa, and I had never even heard of High Sierra before her parents spontaneously bought us the tickets. Of course, I had heard the stigmas surrounding music festivals: They’re sketchy, and to say the least, they are definitely not fit for two 13-year-old girls.
I’ll be honest, I was scared to even stay the night once we drove through the big festival gates. My parents never brought me to concerts, let alone an entire five-day music festival. The little exposure I had to these kinds of places made me uneasy.
But I soon learned that High Sierra is more than just a music festival, and that there’s more to those festival-goers than meets the eye. The first year I went, and every year after that, I met people from all over the United States — children, adults and even elderly people. I understand now that most people aren’t there for drugs or partying; they’re there for the love of music.
Though High Sierra is set in a beautiful area, it is blazing hot in the summer, with temperatures reaching up to 105 degrees. All day, while Gina and I sift through the dozens of shops set up on the festival grounds, we carry a plastic water sprayer and five bottles of water to stay hydrated. Starting from 10 a.m., music can be heard throughout the town.
Every moment I’m there, I never want to leave. Playing card games under the big green canopy, participating in the daily parades with towering characters and booming drums, dancing to funky beats like nobody’s watching — those are the moments I recall with nostalgia. Even while experiencing these moments, I feel an ache inside screaming for them to never end.
But, most of all, it’s not just the festival that makes it a place that matters to me, but the people I go with. Without Gina by my side, things would never be the same. The food wouldn’t taste as good, the laughs wouldn’t be as hard and the music wouldn’t be felt with as much feeling.
High Sierra holds a special place in my heart, just like it does for so many other people. It’s a place that always leaves visitors yearning to return and experience the music, the good times and the memories all over again. I know High Sierra will forever be the one true place I can feel the love, the happiness and the music life has to offer.